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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746940">Sword of Damocles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber'>KivaEmber</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Persona Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Persona 3 References, Persona 5: The Royal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shadows (Persona Series), Slow Burn, Strega Akechi AU, Supernatural Illnesses, Terminal Illnesses, Unethical Experimentation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:21:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Well done,"</i> God/Devil whispered, as it unlocked his path for revenge, <i>"Now observe your task. Complete it with your karma made manifest."</i></p>
<p>or; </p>
<p>Akechi did not naturally awaken to his Persona, Yaldabaoth guided Shido to more than just the Metaverse by revealing the existence of STREGA and DVA research, and everything is the same except Akechi is under constant threat of being murdered by his own artificial Persona, Loki. But that's fine, his plan for revenge is almost over. He just has to last until December, before Loki breaks free. </p>
<p>Then the Phantom Thieves get involved, and things get messy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Quality Persona Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The study had been titled something like <em>"Contributing functional neuroimaging to the study of social cognition", </em>requesting volunteers preferably between the age range of 14-17 years old. No parental permission required, with an up front commission that would make the average student salivate.</p>
<p>Yet, pointedly, the study did not <em>accept</em> the average student. Anyone who had parental permission were rejected out of hand, those with strong social ties equally dismissed; no, those who were accepted fulfilled a certain criteria:</p>
<p>Orphans with no social life to speak of, generally isolated and unliked by current caretakers. If they vanished, no one would notice or care, as their worth boiled down to being a disposable resource that could be efficiently used down to the ounce.</p>
<p>There were exactly 100 friendless, unwanted orphans accepted into this innocuous study. Goro recognised a handful of them from other different foster institutions. Like him, they were deemed <em>"difficult"</em> or <em>"trash"</em>, but here in this study, under the encouraging and friendly instruction of the overseeing researchers, they were <em>"indispensable".</em></p>
<p>(<em>disposable</em>)</p>
<p>The friendly researchers bandied about the terms <em>"Kirijo" </em>and <em>"Persona"</em> and <em>"Strega"</em> in low undertones when they thought their ignorant labrats couldn't hear. The unwitting guinea pigs eventually weren't allowed to leave the complex - no one came looking for them. The nature of the experiments, previously painless and stress-free, became invasive and incomprehensible. Their numbers began to shrink and the no longer friendly researchers pushed the unfortunate survivors harder. Goro watched them get eaten from the inside out by their own Shadows.</p>
<p>Yet, he felt no fear as isolation slowly slung its noose around his neck. God had chosen him, He had whispered in his ear and told him that this path was where a lowly, pathetic orphan like him could grasp his revenge with trembling, too-small hands. God told him <em>"endure"</em> and so he did, and Goro’s agony was rewarded with a power called Persona: a demon buried under his flesh that snarled and gnashed it fangs to be set free, tamed by his own rotten spirit and the touch of God.</p>
<p><em>"Well done," </em>God/Devil whispered, as it unlocked his path for revenge, <em>"Now observe your task. Complete it with your karma made manifest."</em></p>
<p>And Goro observed. He understood.</p>
<hr/>
<p>In Spring 2012, 100 friendless orphans were quietly inducted into the Artificial Persona Project, funded in secret by someone who had old ties to a more ruthless Kirijo of yore.</p>
<p>In Spring 2013, 99 friendless orphans were quietly erased from public records and buried in an unmarked mass grave. </p>
<p>In Spring 2013, Akechi Goro rose from their ashes.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"The contract is simple. You have six years until you die, and you only need to work three of them."</p>
<p>Goro said nothing. He stared at the crisp, white edges of the contract set in front of him, already turned to the last page where the signature block was.</p>
<p>"Three years to help me lead this country away from a path of ruin," said the monster across from him, "Once you have completed your task, you can spend the last half of your life living in paradise. Anything you want, you can have. Women, men, money… anything."</p>
<p>"Until the Persona breaks free," Goro said flatly.</p>
<p>"Until then," the monster said, "Until then."</p>
<p>Goro looked up.</p>
<p>The monster was his father, and he lounged confidently in his leather seat, his mouth curved into a self-satisfied smile. He was pushing fifty, if public records were correct about his birthdate, but age was slow at touching the sharp angles of his face. The monster was charismatic, handsome and free with his promises, used to weaker men falling at his feet to catch even the scantest of fortunes thrown their way.</p>
<p>Yet Goro was not dazzled by his promises. Anything he wanted - <em>all</em> he wanted, this man could not give him, even if he became leader of the world and all its odious masses. Only a God could give him his heart's desire, and He had already whispered His price to him, in that cold, empty cell as Loki's claws had scrabbled at the insides of his ribcage.</p>
<p>"We'll make arrangements for a peaceful death. Let you go in your sleep, rather than suffer at its hands," the monster said, "So?"</p>
<p>Goro picked up the pen.</p>
<p>He enjoyed a brief fantasy of diving across the table and stabbing it into his father's eye, then throat, then everywhere, over and over until it was <em>over.</em> No more pain, no more anything. Their cursed bloodline will end, and perhaps Mother would be satisfied with his death, as messy as it would be. No gravestone, no apology, but his blood, sticky and hot between his fingers and the light fading from his eyes.</p>
<p>But it was just a fantasy - for now.</p>
<p>(<em>"endure"</em>)</p>
<p>He signed his name in neat, perfect lines: <em>"Akechi Goro", </em>and was rewarded with his first bottle of pills. He popped two instantly, the scrabbling, too tight pain in his chest subsiding. Loki's snarls softened into a white noise on the edges of his hearing.</p>
<p>His contract was sealed.</p>
<p>Fate began to turn.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>10 April 2016 - Nagatacho Line</strong>
</p>
<p>The platform was thick with early morning commuters, a thick press of salarymen, single parent workers and avid students attending cram school. Goro observed from the fringes, in the shadow of a pillar, before refocusing on his work phone. </p>
<p>Tanji Sho, a train conductor of little note, took up his screen. He was an average looking man, with an equally average life, with an average wife and two average children. He was so <em>offensively</em> average that Goro couldn’t help but feel a thread of vindication for what was to come. Woe, poor Tanji, about to cause a political shitstorm! It might be too much for someone so average and unimportant. </p>
<p>Goro closed down his profile and deleted it - he had all the necessary information - and switched phones. His personal phone, ill-used except for this, had a simple lockscreen of cherry blossoms in full bloom. Something about the simple smears of pink and soft blue settled his nerves, made Loki inside his chest cavity less cruel. </p>
<p>His last good memory of his mother had been during a warm Spring. Perhaps it was due to that. </p>
<p>After his pre-work ritual of staring at this calming picture for a good five minutes, he unlocked his phone just as the squeals of an approaching train cut through the station, turning the buzz of human chatter into white noise. The glaring eye of the Metanav blazed up at him from the screen, pulsing with divine power. </p>
<p>He tapped it, and melted into the other world that cradled the rotten hearts of men. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Goro followed the winding guts of Mementos at a leisurely stroll. Usually he brought his bike in here and used the powers of cognition to transform it into a motorbike, but Loki was particularly ornery today, and the last thing he needed was to have a fit while travelling at high speeds. It had happened once before, and it was not an experience he wished to repeat, sturdy Persona user body or not. </p>
<p>Besides, sometimes it was nice, just to walk. The air in Mementos felt different, felt less <em>pressurising.</em> He could breathe without his ribcage feeling ready to crumple from Loki’s iron grip on his ribs, he could breathe without the faint low burn of pain that was a recent constant nowadays, he could <em>breathe</em> without biting back Loki’s guttural snarl on every exhale. Loki <em>liked</em> Mementos, probably because it was a place normal humans shouldn’t be. </p>
<p><em>six years,</em> Goro mused, taking a winding turn as he sensed his target close by. This high up in Mementos the Shadows avoided him, sensing a superior predator, <em>i’ll be lucky to see four at this rate.</em></p>
<p>But it is what it is. Goro only had to last until December this year.</p>
<p>December 2016. </p>
<p>Goro’s eyes snagged on a twisted distortion within the walls of Mementos, and he immediately clawed through it. </p>
<p>Seven months. </p>
<p>Tanji Sho cowered and whined like a lowly worm when Goro invaded his little distorted sanctuary. It seemed he had embroiled himself in debt recently, and his guilt and frustration gave rise to the stink of cowardice. Goro swatted aside the Shadow’s measly attempt at resistance as easy as crushing an ant beneath his thumb. </p>
<p>He can last seven months. </p>
<p>The Shadow held up its arms over his head, like that would protect him, and Goro gripped his forearms, tight enough to grind the bones of a normal human, and rasped, <em>“Loki.”</em></p>
<p>So long as he kept his gaze fixed forwards, he will last seven months. </p>
<p>Loki rose from him in a burst of blue-black flames, its guttural snarl almost drowned out by the rattle of chains binding its limbs. It was always painful, to manifest like this, but it was a sweet, familiar pain, one that made Goro smile, as his Persona leered over his shoulder at their unfortunate victim. The chains that bound it to him slinked and hissed, one sliding over his shoulder, as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen. It hurt to touch. </p>
<p>He will see that tomorrow he hungered for ever since he scattered mother’s ashes, because he could not afford a grave. He will see the tomorrow that will come in seven months, where he would whisper in Shido’s ear-</p>
<p>“Please, please, please,” the Shadow begged, but mercy had been carved out of Goro years ago, when God/Devil buried this demon inside his guts and told him he had a higher purpose. </p>
<p>He let the Shadow go, and the quivering coward didn’t have the courage to run. </p>
<p>“It’s nothing personal,” he told the Shadow, and Loki descended upon him as a ravenous ghoul. </p>
<p>Tanji screamed. </p>
<p>They always screamed. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Goro returned to the real world in chaos, and used the confusion to slip out of the subway unrecognised. It wouldn’t be a problem if the Detective Prince was seen here, but he was in no mood to entertain any of his vapid fans or opportunistic journalists. He just wanted to go to his apartment, crawl into his closet, and stay in there until Loki settled down. </p>
<p>It was always rough, transitioning from Mementos to the real world. Too bright, loud, real, the Persona hated it so much. Too many. Too much. </p>
<p>He barely remembered the journey - retrieving his bike from where he stowed it outside the station, cycling home as the roads slowly congested with traffic, climbing the stairs of his apartment and entering it. He did not remember it except as some blurry, vague knowledge of ‘I went home’, every scrap of focus on his breathing exercises as Loki rattled his ribs. </p>
<p>
  <em>in, one, two, three, four, out, one, two, three, four, in, one, two, three, four, out, one, two, three, four, in…</em>
</p>
<p>Seven months. Just seven more months. </p>
<p>Goro crawled into his closet, the enclosed dark comforting, and popped two pills. Loki’s hissing lowered into a muted growl. He could breathe without feeling claws shredding his lungs. </p>
<p>Seven months. </p>
<p>December. </p>
<p>He can make it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Wildcard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If there was one place Goro despised more than Shido’s office, it was the TV station.</p>
<p>Aside from the annoyance of dealing with Yoshizawa - who was currently in an uncooperative mood due to the death of one of his daughters - he had to endure Loki’s agitated restlessness at all the frenetic <em>energy</em> the building had. The glaring lights of the stage, the bright screens of televisions and cameras,</p>
<p><em>(another path, </em>Loki would whisper enigmatically)</p>
<p>the close contact of the makeup crew ensuring he was fit for presentation, the briefings on his appearances, what the topic will be, what to say, what <em>not</em> to say, the abrasive, selfish clique of the adults swanning about the place like they were each a king in their own personal fiefdom, squabbling over time slots of <em>favouritism</em> or this that or the other and it made Loki snarl and rattle his ribcage like the bars of its cell, straining to get out and put these distorted entities into the <em>dirt</em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>In short, Goro hated the TV station.</p>
<p>Yet, Shido pushed for his appearance due to these ‘Phantom Thieves’ and the brewing support and intrigue in them. Goro had sighed and pointed at his ever growing list of targets (thanks, Okumura) and kicked the can further down the road in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable until his <em>father</em> set down an ultimatum. </p>
<p>(<em>“I’ve arranged an appearance later this week to coincide with that school’s attendance, the details will be emailed to you,” shido said in that stern ‘do not fuck with me right now’ voice that always had goro meekly tucking his tail between his legs, while he inwardly seethed, “i had to pull in a favour from you-know-who so </em>don’t<em> fuck this up. understand?” </em></p>
<p>
  <em>“perfectly,” goro said, “is this for the pt investigation?”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“yes, this is damage control, dog,” shido said, using that abominable codename over the burner, “take responsibility for your own complacency and </em>mitigate<em> this mess!”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“yes-” the dial tone met his ear, “...fucker.”)</em>
</p>
<p>So, here he was, at the TV station to attend a briefing on tomorrow’s show. Goro could honestly care less - this morning he had woken up to a bleeding nose and a soiled pillow, a low-grade headache thumping hard behind his eyes as Loki roiled in his guts. For whatever reason his Persona was restless, and a restless Loki meant a miserable Goro, medicine or no. </p>
<p>He had popped two pills after he woke up, another two on the train when he felt the incoming warning signs of a fit, another two after spending five minutes in the TV station and felt like his head was going to crack like a melon- </p>
<p>
  <em>(“akechi-kun, you look so pale today,” nagano asked him when she caught him in the corridor. goro almost cursed, she was normally the one who did his makeup and therefore knew what he looked like on a good or bad day; “are you coming down with the flu?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“aha, no need to concern yourself, nagano-san,” goro deflected, sheer determination and experience helping him fix a charming smile in place, “i overworked myself last night catching up on some schoolwork i neglected, so i slept very little…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“oh, i’m sure your school would understand a tardy piece of homework here and there,” nagano scolded him, but she swallowed the lie, “well, make sure to get an early night tonight, akechi-kun! you have such a beautiful face, it would be a shame to ruin it with eyebags and stress wrinkles.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>Goro thanked her and politely fled, unable to stop the bitter thought of: </em>i’ll never be old enough for wrinkles-<em>)</em></p>
<p>-and now he was frozen in a hallway of the station after hearing just around the corner; <em>“bein’ phantom thieves ain’t easy…”</em></p>
<p>His pill bottle was in hand, he had been planning on taking another two, but his abrupt focus on the careless chatter drifting down the hallway was enough to quell even Loki’s complaints. Two males, one- two females? He could hear four voices, though the fourth he couldn’t quite pin down the sex of. They were talking about pancakes and amusement parks - and sneaking cats on roller coasters? </p>
<p>He stowed his pill bottle and stepped out. </p>
<p>His mask was flawless, as per usual. He was a Detective Prince, soft and polite and with a gentle smile always ready to go, lowering the guard of even the most suspicious of individuals. In the span of his greeting and some mindless smalltalk, he memorised and logged away the three (where was the fourth?) students’ appearances: </p>
<p>First: blond male, Shujin, defensive posture, screamed delinquent, low-threat</p>
<p>Second: blond female, Shujin, foreign ancestry possible, makeup looked professionally done and her face was vaguely familiar (casual model, maybe?), low-threat</p>
<p>Third: dark haired male, Shujin-</p>
<p><em>(<strong>HIM,</strong></em> Loki screeched, <strong><em>WILDCARDTHIEFWILDCARD</em></strong>)</p>
<p>Goro’s smile stayed fixed in place, his glove hiding the white-knuckled grip on his briefcase as Loki surged to the surface with gnashing fangs, making his brain feel like it was getting flash boiled. A sharp throb of pain behind his eyes warned of an impending nosebleed (<em>again</em>), and black spots wobbled in his vision nauseatingly. He fought the urge to blink rapidly. </p>
<p>Third: dark-haired male, Shujin - a high-threat (<em>wildcard? where had he heard that term before-?</em>). </p>
<p>Fuck, he needed to disengage now. Loki was-</p>
<p>“My apologies, I truly was just passing by,” Goro said into a natural lull of conversation, feeling violently disjointed from himself, his physical body going through puppetry motions while he internally grappled with his thrashing Persona. He barely remembered taking his phone out and checking the time, “I must be going. There’s a briefing for tomorrow’s recording that I have to attend.” </p>
<p>(<strong><em>WILDCARD</em></strong>)</p>
<p>Loki slipped from his metaphorical fingers and Goro’s brain spilled apart when the Persona crunched down on his psyche. He burbled something inane instead of retreating - <em>“so you’re going to have cake now?” </em>- briefly forgetting that he wanted to- right, disengage, fuck, it was so difficult to <em>think</em> linearly with Loki literally trashing his skull in a tantrum-</p>
<p>(<strong><em>WILDCARD</em></strong>)</p>
<p>-and, clearly, it was showing, because the three students were now staring at him in open confusion. What did he just <em>say</em>? Loki was just millimeters beneath his skin, his gaze locked onto WILDCARD and- doesn’t matter, get out of here, out out <em>out,</em> he could feel a fit coming on- </p>
<p>So, Goro threw out a polite farewell, said something else, meaningless human words, and rapidly retreated to the closest bathroom. Luckily empty, he dropped his briefcase and hunched over the sink, almost dropping his suppressants into it when he snatched the pill bottle open with shaking hands. Drips of red stained the clean white porcelain, and he tasted metal as he swallowed two pills dry, grinding his forehead against the cold glass as he breathed through it. </p>
<p>Loki, blissfully, settled, leaving behind a migraine that speared through his temples with merciless vengeance. </p>
<p>The dark-haired one… he never caught his name. </p>
<p>Goro opened his eyes. They were bloodshot, the red of his irises glittering with an unnatural light as he breathed through the last of the lingering pain. If they were indeed the Phantom Thieves, then… well, that was easy, wasn’t it? Maybe Shido did him a favour for once, saving him some effort in bumbling about Mementos hoping to run across these new fools. He can squeeze their identities out of that shitty principle of Shujin and pass them across Shido’s desk. Easy. Completed in a week. </p>
<p><em>(wildcard</em>)</p>
<p>But, that was the first time Loki reacted so <em>viscerally</em> to something in the real world - except for its desire to kill him, of course. The Persona had felt… not murderous but, excited? Coveting. It… wanted the ‘wildcard’, with a savage hunger Goro understood. But why? What was so special about <em>him</em>?</p>
<p>Goro grabbed some paper towels, mopping up the blood on his face - luckily managed to avoid staining his jacket and tie, at least - and thought. There was no real rush with exposing the Phantom Thieves, right? He could spend a bit of time poking at the mystery that was this <em>wildcard</em> and see why it sent his Persona into such a state of frothing excitement. Once he was satisfied with that…</p>
<p>He tossed the soiled tissue into the bin and smiled flatly at his ill-looking reflection. </p>
<p>Well. He’ll see. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Goro returned to his apartment just as the sun began to set, when Shido sent him an order. </p>
<p>Typical.</p>
<p>He cast one longing look at his folded up futon, weighing the pros and cons of missing dinner to have a short nap instead, but hunger eventually won out. Taking so many Persona suppressants on an empty stomach made him feel nauseous anyways, so he should fill it up with <em>something</em>. All he had today was an apple sometime around lunch, which he only vaguely remembered because it had been too sweet for his tastes. </p>
<p><em>i’m a mess,</em> he thought as he waited for his kettle to boil, staring at his apartment. Despite Shido paying for his accommodation, the man had been thrifty - it was small, the kitchenette and living room condensed into nearly one room, with a door leading to a tiny western bathroom whose shower had less room than a coffin. There was a small storage closet, which he made sure to keep spacious enough for him to crawl into when Loki was trying its damndest to claw its way out through his sternum, and no bedroom. He just pushed his coffee table up against the wall and spread his futon in the space between his sofa and television. </p>
<p>He made it work. It was fine. </p>
<p>A few minutes later he was choking down instant ramen at the kitchen counter while scrolling through his burner phone with his free hand. The order Shido had sent involved Kaneshiro of all disgusting people, and Goro genuinely considered just… not doing it. </p>
<p>Ugh. But he had to. </p>
<p>It was an easy mission, at least. He just needed to kick that pig from one side of his Palace to the other until he squealed.</p>
<p>He finished off his noodles and tossed the cup into the bin. </p>
<p>Right. </p>
<p>Goro skipped the shower - he can have one when he got back - and switched from his real life clothes to his Metaverse ones. There had been discussions, back in The Facility, of how the Metaverse caused physical changes in Persona users when crossing over, a sort of ‘protective cognitive armour’, but it had never happened to him. Whatever he wore in the real world was what he wore in the Metaverse, and after getting thrown off his cognitively transformed bike because of Loki, or being savaged by wild Shadows, Goro realised the flimsy fabric of his school uniform was not good protection when doing the harder jobs.</p>
<p>For trash like Tanji Sho, the train conductor? Normal clothes were fine. For Kaneshiro? Still trash, but the sort that could sneak in a few good punches. </p>
<p>So: biking leathers. </p>
<p>Sleek black and devoid of any labelling to minimise identifying marks, Goro slipped the helmet on before exiting his apartment, grabbing his Metaverse supplies bag on the way out, and dragged his feet to his evening job.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Kaneshiro’s Palace was thankfully not that difficult to enter. Being known as a high-ranking member of Shido’s inner circle opened many doors, cognitive or otherwise, so after slipping into the Metaverse in Shibuya’s Central Street, the Palace lowered its bridge and Goro walked up it, hunching his shoulders against the sharp, freezing cold wind that blustered around the Palace. </p>
<p>Loki was a dull rumble in the back of his mind, lethargic and drugged up to the eyeballs thanks to his overdose of Persona suppressants. Controllable and pliant, just how he liked it.</p>
<p>But it left <em>him</em> feeling lethargic and drugged, his eyelids drooping as he was ushered through the front door of the bank by Kaneshiro’s security. The Shadows were nervous, possibly remembering his previous visit, but Goro ignored it before it riled him up, clutching the sides of his helmet to keep his head together. Damn Shadows, always - buzzing around like flies, setting his teeth on edge. So annoying, annoying, annoying- </p>
<p>(<strong><em>SQUASH THEM</em></strong>)</p>
<p>He could be <em>sleeping</em> right now! God <em>damn</em> it.</p>
<p>(<strong><em>LET ME OUT</em></strong>)</p>
<p>No…! </p>
<p>“Black Rider-san,” the security guard twittered anxiously, as Goro stopped and pressed his helmet against the side of the corridor’s wall and clawed at it like some crazy person, “Is something the matter?”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>,” Goro snarled, Loki’s rasping on the edges of that word. He gave the helmet one hard smack against the wall and pushed away, “I’m fine. Take me to Kaneshiro.”</p>
<p>“Y-Yes! Of course!”</p>
<p>Kaneshiro waited for him in a conference room with about ten security guards huddled around him in a protective wall. Refreshments were laid out on the table, but Goro ignored them, instead standing at the head of the table staring right at Kaneshiro’s tense face with murderous focus. The criminal had a smug expression, but he was sweating, his upper lip quivering as he sensed a superior predator in his midst. </p>
<p>“You seem to be agitated tonight, Black Rider,” Kaneshiro said very carefully, “Care for some refreshments to-”</p>
<p>“Look,” Goro interrupted, “I don’t want to be here, and you don’t want me here, so let’s just get the whole business over with.”</p>
<p>Kaneshiro folded his hands on the table, glancing at his guards on either side of him, “...alright.” </p>
<p>“Your extra profits. Where are they being funnelled?”</p>
<p>Kaneshiro looked stunned, then even more nervous, “Uh, extra profits…?”</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t,</em>” Goro snarled, slamming his hands down on the table and making the teacups jump on their platters, “<em>fuck</em> with me right now, Kaneshiro. Extra profits, the ones that <em>should</em> be going to our mutual benefactor. Where are they going?”</p>
<p>“You’re uncharacteristically aggressive tonight,” Kaneshiro observed, taking out a handkerchief to mop his sweaty brow, “Though, I suppose with Madarame out of the picture, that hit his finances quite hard…”</p>
<p>Goro breathed, letting his eyes fall heavy-lidded. Loki purred.</p>
<p>“But, it’s just, I already send so much to him, almost seventy per cent cut, which isn’t good for busi-”</p>
<p>Something splintered in his psyche and Loki gnashed free. </p>
<p>He came back to himself with the Palace alarm shrieking and Kaneshiro’s battered face blubbering like a pathetic baby under his fist. Leering over his shoulder, clawed hands grasping his helmet and carving shallow gouges into the black lacquer, Loki laughed, deep and poisonous and rattling in his skull like a bag of nails. Everything was hazed red, a sharp disconnect from his own body that left him numb. </p>
<p>“Answer,” was all he got out, coming out of his mouth - coming out of Loki’s mouth - the line blurring so much between them he struggled to fight free of the fog. Loki’s claws forced his head down, towards Kaneshiro, the Persona <em>pushing,</em> “<em>Answer</em>.”</p>
<p>“I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!” the prey whined.</p>
<p>Good. </p>
<p>Loki’s claws scrabbled at his face - trying to gouge out his eyes through the visor - but Goro forced its hands away, forced it down, forced it away- </p>
<p>Kaneshiro spilled his ugly secrets while Goro tried to remember what shape a human took. Luckily, he perfected the art of listening while his own mind flew apart at the seams, so by the time the Shadow’s tale of woe was over, Goro was himself again and Loki was itself again, and he was tired. </p>
<p>
  <em>i want to sleep.</em>
</p>
<p>So bad. </p>
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<p>He didn’t remember going home or reporting to Shido, so waking up in his unrolled futon was a pleasant surprise, his alarm chirping softly close to his ear. </p>
<p>His body ached dully. </p>
<p>Groggily, he sat up, dragging his fingers through his hair and checking the time. Hm, enough for a shower, at least, and then… school? No, wait, it’s the TV showing today. That was going to be hell but-</p>
<p>(<em>wildcard</em>)</p>
<p>That’s right. Him. </p>
<p>Goro felt pretty good today too. Loki was quiet and content, and aside from a few mystery claw marks on his arms and legs (<em>loki? or the shadows from kaneshiro’s palace?)</em> he didn’t feel too bad physically either. A good omen. </p>
<p>So, he cleaned up, disinfected the angry red cuts on his body (<em>definitely loki</em>) and got changed into his school uniform. He practiced his smile in the mirror, until he was Detective Prince, cute and gentle and not at all insane. There was colour in his cheeks today, he was pleased to note. Nagano won’t be suspicious. </p>
<p>“Let’s see what sort of person you are, Wildcard,” he said to his reflection, and gave it a playful wink. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so, to explain, as Akechi's persona was a false awakening, and not done in the Metaverse but a la P3-style, he doesn't have a Metaverse outfit, which will... be something important later on. So yeah. Black Mask = motorcycle helmet. Ur welcome.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For those who may be rusty or doesn't know the Persona 3 references: <a href="https://megamitensei.fandom.com/wiki/Strega">STREGA</a>, <a href="https://megamitensei.fandom.com/wiki/Artificial_Persona_user">Artificial Persona User</a>, <a href="https://megamitensei.fandom.com/wiki/Persona_Suppressors">Persona Suppressors Medicine</a>. </p>
<p>i hope you... enjoy this?? haaaa... boy, this is gonna end poorly.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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